Tuesday, 24 November 2009


I have many names
the first of which I am not
Designation, signature, me.
I was small and indignant
unpopular and difficult
never cute, never good
Slaughtered inside so quickly
and seamlessly garbaged in a bad place
painted with thick, stinking mud
by those who wrote it all down
and passed it on.
I wasn't interested
in your mainstream shit
and narrowed thinking
and I was always thinking
analysing.. asking myself
why did you just say that?
who told you that shit was true?
daydreaming you called it
so "mud" it was
"spam" to my friends
did it just rhyme?
or did I actually like... spam?

Additions, adjustments
advances and breaks
So many breaks...


I was thinking just now and...
Not now... shut up
Do it this way!
So I did it that way
tired and drained
look at this, do that
you fit right in
a long time looking
for a group
a different group
but still like sheep
They were weirdos
who thought
I was weird.

Puss.. Pusska
sleeping like a cat
stretching, yawning
bored, unstimulated
ego-centric, swollen
turn inwards and smile without
Gathering waifs and strays
who could see
and then want.

I am Electric
a current
a flow
always interrupted
Tough to crack
an inspiring challenge
easy to show me your back
when I'm empty
but I was never empty
I didn't show you what I am
Just what I should be
and then you didn't understand
and again
never understanding
difficult got weird
Oh fuck...run
run because you can't quite put your finger on it?

I remember a day when I changed again
Frightening myself stupid on something big
something that kept turning me upside down
until the change fell from my pockets
pockets that I didnt even like
I pledged to swap them when I got home
When my heel snapped my mind was made up

I meet you over and over
the same person again and again
A handful are tolerant
I could see it in their eyes
I smoked so I could concentrate
then I drank to escape my own head
The back of that bike
always gave me something to hold
made me feel alive
no fear of death
Just a ride that would put the wind in my hair
and freeze my skin

We don't know what to do with her
She is bright but she doesn't try

I'm bored
She seems to have her own agenda
I have
We are at a loss
If you ever take the time....
I'm in here
I would quite like to meet someone new.

~ Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB) aka Leccie 2008/2009

Sunday, 1 November 2009

Non-sleeping Dream

Celestial calm inducing sleep
or so I think
Mystical words awaken inside
and slumber paralyses
as the battle rages within
I call out to you
yet you do not hear me
and with hindsight, I know
you can't and won't help
I lie still in distress
the Astral Demon alive
in old, frail, glass houses
it lives and breathes and torments
I wake again and again
yet I do not
An illusion of hope and escape
from my warring soul
It looks peaceful from afar
those hypnotising words
of prophecy and insight
stirring the fight
invoking the struggle
that lies beneath
I have woken again
or have I?
Is this real now?
Exhausted, I have not slept
Just anaesthetised and possessed

~ Leccie 2009 aka Charlotte Sometimes (SRWB)

Coagulated Thought

A half-pale face stares from the sky
as if embedded in a twisted wound
Scraped, broken and yet hidden
by toxic scars and ripples of ruin
It is beauty and filth, all the same
An entity with the knowledge of the past
It is soul-filling and soul dead
Pulling and dragging an ebb and flow
offering an alternative light
a different view
to the obscenities of years
played out below
It still cannot answer
the shameful questions of time
through all it has seen
there is no power in loss
and pain and hatred
The waste of honour and glory
played out time and again
Always the last push
The one to end it all
A cleansing of vanity
A purpose for those long dead
No fear of the physical pain
Just the torment of futility
and an absent meaning.
A half turn within the wound
is an illusion... only light
Upon sight of irritated flesh seeping
The serous fluid drips coagulated
upon the horrified earth below
perpetuating the bleeding thoughts of

~ Leccie 2009 aka Charlotte Sometimes(SWRB)